


Kindling

by Kakashifan727



Category: Original Work
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, F/M, Fantastical Racism, Good!Lich, Human/Nonhuman relationship, Mutual Pining, Original work - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Teratophilia, Violence, What are emotions?, Work In Progress, skeleton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14213853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kakashifan727/pseuds/Kakashifan727
Summary: A centuries old lich starts to have feelings for a human woman. Feelings he thought had left him long ago. Slow Burn Romance.





	Kindling

**Author's Note:**

> First time doing an original thing. Partly inspired by something I read on tumblr. I’ll link if I can find it.

He ventures out to the small village on a whim, to sate his curiosity. He has long been a recluse, understanding that his nature was one reviled by most of the world, locking himself away in his keep. It was more to shield himself from others’ prying eyes, to avoid distractions and hindrances, his research often taking up most of his time now. He had stopped caring about what others thought of him; no longer able to truly ‘feel’ emotions as a living person would. He accepted that part of his life; having lived this cursed existence for almost two centuries, the memories of his mortal life slipping by like trickles of water.

It happened slowly, mainly simple things at first; His parents names and faces, the place where he grew up as a child. He forgot about his companions, their names and faces, voices even, mired as if by a fog. His skin had rotted off his corpse long ago, pale bones and bony skull poking through his robes and the armor underneath, the warmth of his pulse no longer beating in his withered body. As the years turned into decades, he found himself losing more and more of what made him human; yet for some reason his skills with the blade and arcane remained completely intact. Eventually he no longer remembered how he came to be in this state, just accepting it as if it was natural, as if he was born a creature of bones and magic, death and darkness.

During that time he had watched kingdoms rise, and then fall just as quickly, all due to their own avarice. Long had his fortress lay untouched by any other than himself, as many mortals saw it as a cursed place, one of death and decay. It certainly looked the part; a dark and foreboding stone structure, looming over the quaint hamlet seemingly out of place, with large walls, crumbling terraces and gates to keep others out. Few of the townsfolk below dared venture near. He rather preferred it that way; less nuisances to trouble him with.

Still, he often found himself sometimes wandering down to the tiny village, in a human giuse lest they chase him away. He’d rather not deal with the mess that came with killing them all; upstart kings and the like bringing their soldiers to raze the countryside...It was not worth the hassle for him to move and be chased just for one small town, so he let them go about their daily lives, only interjecting when he felt bored or curious. Why he could not truly say, yet it was how he had found himself here now. He didn’t understand what this compulsion was himself. Still, something...something called to him, so he had decided to see what.

The shift in mood as he came down the path to the small village was a feeling he had grown familiar with, a dread hanging in the air that would have made any lesser man’s spine chill with fear. He could overhear their zealous shouts and clamor quite easily as he came upon a large gathering of villagers, torches and pitchforks raised high in anger. What piqued his interest then was a lone girl in the center of all the commotion, terribly out of place in this small village. He could see the pure terror in her wide, innocent eyes. So different from the fear shown by his opponents on the battlefield before he slew them. A raw, unadulterated fear. It made him pause, brows narrowed in thought as he watched her squirming form on the raised platform. He thought he felt something thud against his rib cage then; though he dismissed the sensation as the pommel at his hip. It must have struck against his ribs...or what was left of them.

Sacrifice? They were planning on offering up the girl to him? For something as foolish as that; how incredibly naive these humans were! Even if he cared about their plight enough to help, what made them think offering a waif like her would do? Still...The young woman bound to the spot had such a defeated look in her eyes, it sparked something within him. Something he’d long thought had been snuffed out of his heart. Compassion? Empathy? He couldn’t say, he only knew that his body was moving towards them, swift strides taking him to her in only a few steps. An arm wraps around her shoulder, his human disguise making several of the taller and more built humans stare his way. They bark out commands, and a smile passes over his face then.

He feels the fake skin melt from his form, willingly dispelling the illusion and causing several of the villagers to scream in terror. He felt his stomach churn at the noise; how aggravating! At least it stopped their incessant clamoring and pleading for the woman to be killed. The young woman also stared at him with fear in her doe eyed gaze, though it was quickly replaced by something else a moment later. He felt a sensation akin to surprise as her tiny arm wrapped around his own, her small and frail body clinging to him. This confused him; he thought she’d be more wary, more guarded, because of what he was. He just stares into the depths of her eyes, wanting to understand the strange emotion he found there. What was it? He did not know; only that he found this young woman quite interesting. It was decided then; he would take her with him.


End file.
